


To Yearn in the Cold Dark Night

by JinxedAmbitions



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Gentle Sex, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxedAmbitions/pseuds/JinxedAmbitions
Summary: When his mind keeps him from sleep, Eskel steals away to the ramparts of Kaer Morhen to watch the snow fall.  Memories leave him wanting for something he doesn’t believe is his any more.  However, when Geralt comes to find him as he’s done for most of their lives, they face their memories together tied as they always have been.  And when Geralt’s current lover comes to find them both, Eskel comes to realize that perhaps the only thing keeping him from what he wants is himself.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 272





	To Yearn in the Cold Dark Night

Eskel stared up at the ceiling. The room was quiet. The whole keep was quiet and had been for hours. The snow had been falling since early in the afternoon, and Vesemir had let them enjoy themselves for the remainder of the day. It was a rare reprieve from training, and they’d all taken full advantage. They’d all had their share of ale and done their share of storytelling while enjoying Vesemir’s hearty stew and reserves of potent liquor.

Now though, Eskel couldn’t find sleep. Meditation had eased the inebriation, but it had done little to calm the itch beneath his skin. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind brought forth images of Jaskier grinning as he teased Geralt for getting bitten in the ass while on a contract. If not that then Aiden making fun of Lambert for the stick lodged up his ass. It only made the emptiness of his own bed seem that much worse.

Shoving the furs off of his body, Eskel sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He sat for several moments with his head in his hands. His fingers followed the path of his scar, tracing it as he’d done a thousand times before. He wasn’t sure if it was soothing or maddening anymore, but it was familiar. Resentment brewed in his gut as he followed the ruined flesh.

Stretching loose some of the aches in his body, Eskel rose from bed and pulled on a threadbare pair of braies and his boots. He barely felt the drafts as he stepped out of his room and headed down the hall. He tiptoed past Geralt’s room, knowing that whether he was otherwise occupied or not, he’d hear him if he wasn’t careful. He’d had decades of practice, listening for Eskel’s quiet steps. Lambert’s room was less of a concern. Lambert wasn’t listening for him, and Aiden wouldn’t care enough to comment.

Eskel tried not to think about how the others had company in their beds. Sure, they had all retired to their own quarters, but they weren’t fooling anyone. Jaskier was covered in Geralt’s scent, and Aiden wasn’t much better where Lambert was concerned.

Stepping out onto the rampart was a precarious task with the state of the keep, especially with everything covered in snow, but Eskel had done it so many times that it was second nature. However, the bitter wind stole his breath before he steeled himself against it. Perhaps, neglecting to wear so much as an under tunic had been an oversight. Vesemir would slap him upside the head for this, but he wasn’t here either. He was sleeping heavily after too many cups of mulled wine which left Eskel to contend with his own mistakes.

The night was gray, and Eskel found himself missing the stars as the heavy snowflakes fell. The stars were one of his only constant companions on the Path, and cloudy skies felt unfamiliar. He supposed that was just how he was supposed to feel this evening, like a stranger in his own home. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. Still, it hollowed him out and left him wanting for something that was not meant to be. Something he’d foolishly believed could be his, despite who and what he was. Something that was torn apart as easily as the skin on his face.

The world seemed muted by the blanket of snow. It was a requiem among the years of violence, a moment of listless freedom between contracts. However, despite the peace, Eskel found himself yearning for something he could not articulate even in the silence of his own seclusion. 

Tipping his head back, he tried to envision being wrapped in another’s arms, covered in thick furs and warmed by their naked body. He imagined the sweat of lengthy lovemaking cooling on his skin, and the dull ache of well-used muscles. It wasn’t terribly hard, he’d experienced it before...within these very walls. He recalled the feeling of his mind pleasantly quiet for a brief respite.

Eskel ran his fingertips through the unblemished snow on the stone parapet, taking small pleasure in undoing its perfection. They all thought Geralt was the maudlin one, but Eskel had his moments. He was just better at hiding it in company. 

“Your thoughts are almost as loud as your feet.”

Eskel grunted, not bothering to turn at the unmistakable sound of Geralt’s gravelly voice. Clearly, he had not been as careful as he’d intended. It wasn’t terribly surprising that Geralt had heard him. He’d trained himself to do it more than half a century ago. Eskel did flinch when he felt a heavy fur draped over his shoulders, immediately guarding him from the biting cold.

“You always leave your coat inside then spend hours trying to regain the dexterity in your fingers,” Geralt said, coming to stand beside him. They were so close that their shoulders brushed. Geralt wore his own fur to keep the chill at bay. 

“Shouldn’t you be entertaining a certain bard?” Eskel asked, tucking his hands inside the warm fur. He made sure to keep his tone wry rather than let on his true feelings.

“Mm. Unfortunately, his tolerance is not that of a witcher, and he fell asleep while I was buried inside him.” His tone said that this was not the first time such a thing had happened, and that it still amused Geralt despite the inconvenience. 

Love was strange.

“High marks for your performance.”

Geralt chuckled. “Or high marks for Vesemir’s mulled wine.”

That pulled an honest laugh from Eskel. “Remember when we found his stash of herbal when we were far too young to have any business drinking it?”

“I think that made me almost as sick as the trials,” Geralt sighed, bumping their shoulders.

It was a blatant lie. Eskel had been so sure he was to watch Geralt die after the extra trials. He’d cried more then than when he was handed over to a witcher as a boy.

“To be that innocent again.”

“You sound like Lambert, wanting to go back, have a different life.”

“I suppose I do,” Eskel admitted, lifting his hand again to rub his scar.

Geralt caught his fingers and held them between his own, warmer ones. “Destiny is for the poor sods who don’t want to take responsibility for their own choices.”

“None of us chose this.”

“Neither did destiny. Sometimes life is just crap.”

“Glad to know you’ll never change,” Eskel said, smiling at Geralt. It was a rare thing, but Geralt had never shied away from his ruined features. He’d seen the bloody mess of it the day it happened, and he’d never flinched then or since.

“I also recall stealing Vesemir’s swill and coming up here with you when we were older…”

“To celebrate our survival.” Eskel shook his head. That had been a memorable night. A first in many ways, and a first of many nights they stole away together to the seclusion of the dark corners of the keep.

“It made surviving seem a little less bleak,” Geralt sighed, leaning into Eskel. 

“It did. I couldn’t stop crying when you kissed me...I’d been so certain you were going to die after your hair…” Eskel reached up and took a strand of hair between his fingers.

“Yet, here I am.” Geralt removed a skin from his own coat and brought it to his lips before offering it to Eskel.

Eskel knew it was the odd herbal liquor they brewed in the keep, based on the smell alone. 

“Looking to have us both as unconscious as Jaskier?”

Geralt grunted, pressing the skin to his chest again.

Eskel rolled his eyes, but accepted the offering. “You certainly came out here prepared.”

“One of us had to.”

Eskel didn’t point out that it was usually him that came prepared and Geralt who went with the flow. It didn’t matter really. They complemented each other. 

“What are we drinking to?” Eskel asked, eying the skin dubiously.

“To that which we already have but do not know.”

Eskel burst out into laughter, bringing the skin to his lips and taking a heavy swig. “I thought you thought destiny was crap.”

“It’s not destiny I’m toasting to,” Geralt said, pulling the skin back and taking a long pull himself.

Eskel didn’t know what he was getting at, but the liquor went straight to his head the way a potion would, and after that he didn’t really care. They passed the skin between them, staring out over the valley without saying a word for a long time. It felt good. It felt like the old days when coming back to the keep felt like coming home...when there were more of them left.

“Remember the first time Lambert caught us?” Geralt asked, looking up into the falling snow.

“When you had your hand in my breeches, and I was too close to stop myself from coming?” Eskel retorted, remembering the moment fondly. It hadn’t been nearly as sweet in the moment as memory painted it to be. 

“Lambert was so upset that we hadn’t invited him to drink the liquor we’d stolen, he didn’t even realize what we were actually out here doing.” Geralt chuckled, pressing his head to Eskel’s shoulder.

“I was certain he was going to realize and wake the whole keep.” Eskel had been so pent up when Geralt had shown up at his room with two full skins of Vesemir’s herbal, and he’d barely gotten a mouthful of the stuff before he had his mouth and hands all over Geralt. It had been a long year, and he’d just wanted to feel Geralt.

Geralt had gotten with the program pretty quickly, and he’d unlaced Eskel’s breeches as fast as his deft fingers could manage, and he’d shoved his hand into them. Geralt had been a tease back then, cupping Eskel and massaging his testicles until he was begging Geralt between desperate kisses. He’d brought Eskel to the edge half a dozen times before Lambert found them, and by that time Eskel had been unable to even articulate his need. 

“He stumbled out here growling like a bear because he knew we had Vesemir’s stash, and he didn’t even notice your eyes go so wide as you bit back a sob. Fuck, I don’t think you were ever so gorgeous. You seemed so shocked by your own pleasure.” Geralt smiled, reaching up to run his fingertips over Eskel’s cheek.

Eskel made a derisive noise as he caught Geralt’s fingers. “Are you getting so old that you forget I didn’t always have these?” Eskel asked.

“I remember your face just fine, and what I said still stands.”

“You don’t have to patronize me.”

“Have I ever been known to?”

Eskel scratched at his face, wrestling with the knowledge that Geralt didn’t say things just to make others feel better. He didn’t think up elaborate lies to gain favor when it wasn’t for a contract. If Geralt said he found you pleasing, it was because he did.

“I think that your memory does not serve you favorably.”

Geralt chuckled. “I think you’ll let your imagination run away with you rather than hear the honest truth when it comes to that face of yours.”

“Fuck off.”

“You used to make this little gasping sound like you couldn’t believe I was touching you...was bittersweet when you stopped making it after about a decade,” Geralt said, taking another sip from the skin.

Eskel was thoroughly drunk, and he assumed Geralt was as well, so he didn’t call him on what was absolutely bullshit. Instead, he leaned into Geralt’s warmth and tried to enjoy it while it was available to him.

“You should check on Jaskier. Even if he’s asleep, the rooms are drafty.”

“He’s fine.”

“Would he be fine if he knew what you were doing?”

“What am I doing?” Geralt looked up into his eyes, his gaze much more clear than Eskel felt.

“You’re playing with fire.”

“You’re much better at that than me. Your signs always were.”

Eskel blinked, trying to follow the twists in Geralt’s logic. He was too tipsy to appreciate Geralt making a bad joke because he needed to be understood. “No. You are teasing me with memories of the past. It’s not fair to Jaskier…” 

He stopped himself before he could say that it wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t, but he  _ wanted  _ to remember. He wanted to relive it. It was the closest to what he yearned for that he was going to get.

“Very noble of you to consider the bard’s feelings. You ever pause to consider your own, or have you fully embodied the selfless knight?”

“Fuck.” Eskel shook his head, trying to clear it. “You’re teasing me.”

“Only because you make it so easy.”

“Asshole.” Eskel grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to the ground as he would in training. They both went down into the cold snow, grappling with each other. 

Eskel lost the fur that Geralt had wrapped him in, getting tangled just long enough that Geralt could wrestle him into a headlock. Eskel easily elbowed him in the ribs before he could get his hands properly set, and they grappled again. Eskel wrapped his legs around Geralt’s waist in an attempt to pin him, but Geralt rolled them so he was on top. 

Their breath was coming in little clouds as they fought for the smallest opening in the other’s defenses. Their groins ground together as they moved together, and Eskel tried to bite back a groan at the sudden friction. 

Eskel gasped as Geralt’s teeth latched onto his neck in soft bites. They left him breathless and needy, but he tried to shove at Geralt to maintain control. However, when Geralt bit into the flesh of his shoulder right where he knew Eskel was weak for it, all bets were off. 

Grappling hands became clinging as they began to move against each other, seeking pleasure. Geralt grunted as their cocks pressed against each other, only separated by their smallclothes. 

Eskel couldn’t help the small gasps that broke free of his lips as he held Geralt to him desperately, ignoring every warning his brain was trying to give him. He needed Geralt as much as his next breath and all thought of anyone else had left his mind.

“I thought I told you to bring him inside before he caught his death, not attack him in the snow,” Jaskier’s voice cut through the air. 

Both Geralt and Eskel froze. Eskel felt his body go completely tense as his drunk mind tried to come up with some sort of explanation for what was quite obviously happening.

Geralt pushed off of him before he could think of a proper excuse, and Eskel was left lying in the snow hard and desperate and completely humiliated as Geralt moved toward Jaskier. 

“Told you not to come out here. The keep is falling apart. You could be hurt.”

Eskel pulled the damp fur around him, trying to cover the evidence of his crimes. He felt the emptiness of the night come rushing back in as he watched Geralt pull Jaskier’s own fur around him more securely.

“The only one hurting right now is him. Now, go gather him up, and let’s get back inside,” Jaskier said, pointing directly at Eskel.

Eskel’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form a proper apology, but Jaskier was shaking his head.

“Never mind. Clearly, if I leave you to it, we’ll be out here until dawn,” Jaskier said, pushing past Geralt and walking over to Eskel.

Eskel flinched when Jaskier held out his hand. He expected a blow even if it wouldn’t actually hurt him. However, Jaskier wrapped his hands around Eskel’s bicep and pulled him to his feet with surprising strength. 

“You’re shaking. Let’s get you warmed up,” Jaskier said, his voice calm and soothing rather than harboring a hint of anger.

Eskel let himself be led because he was too confused to fight Jaskier off. He looked to Geralt for explanation, but Geralt was watching them both with an unreadable expression. Perhaps not unreadable, but the affection made no sense to Eskel. Surely, he was ashamed of himself…

“Your skin is ice. Geralt wasn’t lying about you freezing yourself half to death,” Jaskier muttered, wrapping his own fur around Eskel’s shoulders once they were back inside. Geralt was following them closely, not bothering to say a word.

When Jaskier guided him into Geralt’s room, Eskel tried to halt, but Geralt was right behind him and pushed him inside.

“I should be going back—”

“Nonsense, you’re freezing. Body heat is the only solution,” Jaskier said, guiding him to the bed and having him sit on the edge. Jaskier knelt down in front of him and eased his sore feet out of his boots while Geralt stoked the fire in the hearth. 

When Eskel’s boots were off and resting beside the hearth, Jaskier took his frozen toes in hand and massaged some feeling back into them because he hadn’t bothered to wear socks in his boots. Jaskier’s fingers were strong, and his touch was wonderful. 

Geralt came back to the bed once the fire was stoked and he climbed onto it behind Eskel, pulling him against his chest.

“What are you doing?” Eskel asked, still confused by their actions.

“Warming you up unless you are dead set on seeing just what a witcher’s limits are when it comes to hypothermia,” Jaskier said, moving up to Eskel’s calves which hadn’t been covered at all due to the length of his braies and the height of his boots leaving his part shins and calves bare. 

Eskel groaned as Jaskier’s fingers dug into his muscles. 

“I don’t understand,” Eskel said once Jaskier had moved up his legs and began untying his braies.

“We wanted you to join us,” Jaskier said, then turned to Geralt. “I thought you were going to invite him to join us?”

“I was getting there.”

“Getting there? You were gone half the night. If you took any longer to get there, it would be spring!”

Geralt made a disgruntled sound at Jaskier’s accusation. 

“Wait, was that what you were getting at with the toast to the Law of Surprise?” Eskel asked, trying to turn to see Geralt.

“Melitele’s tits, you tried to make a joke? You know how that goes over. Eskel, I am truly sorry that you are forced to deal with this oaf,” Jaskier cut in, drawing Eskel’s attention back to him. He could hear Geralt grumbling behind him, but he didn’t try to interrupt Jaskier. “Eskel, my dear, I would like to cordially invite you to our bed for a night—what’s left of it now that Geralt has wasted half of it—of sumptuous carnal delights.”

“And you complain about me,” Geralt grumbled. “Eskel, we’d like to fuck you, if you’ll have us.”

Eskel felt like he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t make sense. Why would they want him to join them when they had each other. Geralt was stunning and he was a giving lover. Jaskier was carefree and beautiful, not to mention worldly.

“Don’t need your pity,” Eskel said, trying to pull away from their insistent embrace.

“Our pity?” Jaskier sounded shocked.

“Told you,” Geralt added.

“Eskel, ignore Geralt’s childish remarks. How could you think we’d want you out of pity? Have you seen yourself? I mean look at you…”

“I prefer not to see myself,” Eskel sighed, but Jaskier straddled his lap and took his face in his hands.

“Then close your eyes and let me look my fill.” 

Eskel understood why Jaskier had become quite successful both as a bard and as a lover. His words held so much weight without being terribly complicated. There was no room to doubt his sincerity when he spoke with such conviction, when his hands traced every contour of his skin without hesitation. 

“Will you join us, Eskel?” Jaskier asked as Eskel’s eyes slipped closed.

Eskel’s heart beat faster as he continued to feel Jaskier’s hands on his cheeks and Geralt’s wrapped around his waist. 

“If you truly want me to,” he said, feeling a great weight lift as he spoke the words.

“Of course, we do,” Jaskier said, pressing a kiss to Eskel’s closed eyelids. His touch was gentle as he cradled Eskel’s face, but his hips began to rock as soon as Eskel agreed. 

Eskel couldn’t hold back the soft gasp that fell from his lips as Jaskier slowly rode him. 

“There it is,” Geralt rumbled against his throat, and Eskel turned his head to tuck it against Geralt’s, frightened by how well they both read him. “Don’t be shy. Show him the man who used to pin me to the wall and fuck all sense out of me.”

“That wasn’t hard. You didn’t have any to begin with,” Eskel grumbled.

Jaskier laughed against his throat where he had been kissing a path toward his chest. His entire body shook with mirth at their teasing, and he pulled back to look at them.

“Oh, you are delightful.” Jaskier’s eyes danced with excitement as he leaned in slowly.

Eskel didn’t pull away, holding still as Jaskier leaned in for a kiss. It was surprisingly demanding coming from a human. He was used to them being timid or taking his lead, but Jaskier took what he wanted, similar to how Geralt always would. Eskel let himself enjoy it, meeting Jaskier’s demands and hesitantly making his own.

Geralt pressed kisses to his shoulders, rubbing his back soothingly as he lost himself in Jaskier’s embrace. Slowly, he guided Eskel down to the nest of covers they had created, and Eskel found himself cocooned between the two of them. 

Jaskier and Geralt took turns kissing him as both of their hands wandered over his body possessively. He wasn’t sure which one of them finally removed his braies completely while the other kissed him thoroughly. It was too much to keep track of, but soon enough none of them were wearing a stitch of clothing.

Eskel shook himself free of his daze and curled an arm around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him to his chest and stealing a heated kiss. Geralt didn’t seem to mind as he rocked against Eskel’s hip while pressing kisses to the other side of his chest.

They moved together, each of them reaching for one another and sharing kisses and touches. Eskel was aching hard as Jaskier straddled him and lined up their erections. It was Geralt’s hand that wrapped around them both, stroking firmly as he used his mouth to tease Eskel’s nipples.

Eskel gasped as his own pleasure snuck up on him, balls tightening and stomach swooping. He painted his own belly as Jaskier moaned above him. 

“Beautiful,” Jaskier said, biting his lip as he ran his fingers through Eskel’s spend which was spattered across the hair on his belly.

Eskel’s mouth fell open as Jaskier brought his spend to his lips and sucked them clean while Geralt continued to jerk him off. 

“Lie on your side, darling,” Jaskier ordered, dismounting from his hips and climbing off the bed entirely. 

Eskel’s brain was foggy between the alcohol and the orgasm, but it was Geralt who gently coaxed him onto his side, facing the hearth and Jaskier who was digging through his pack.

Jaskier returned with a jar of fragrant oil and a warm smile on his face.

“Haven’t been fucked in…”Eskel trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by how long it had been since someone had been inside him. He’d had plenty of sex as recent as the weeks prior to returning to Kaer Morhen, but it had been years since he’d felt another inside him.

“Don’t worry about that. Perhaps another night, but tonight I thought we would just indulge ourselves with those gorgeous thighs of yours,” Jaskier told him, reaching down and running his palm over Eskel’s thick thigh.

Eskel gulped. Jaskier was open to doing this more than once. They weren’t just indulging him out of pity that he was the only one of them without a partner in the keep.

“If you’d prefer to fuck me or Geralt, that can be arranged as well,” Jaskier told him when he didn’t immediately respond.

“He enjoys this. Open the jar,” Geralt said, running his fingers through Eskel’s hair and pulling him back to the present.

“I do,” Eskel agreed. There was something intimate about it despite the lack of actual penetration. 

“Well then, you are in for a treat. Spread those beautiful legs for me,” Jaskier ordered, kneeling in front of him on the bed.

Eskel groaned as Geralt settled behind him and slid his hand under Eskel’s top leg to lift it up for Jaskier.

“Oh, that is stunning,” Jaskier muttered as he just watched them for a moment. “I should’ve insisted on coming here with Geralt years ago.” 

Eskel chuckled as Geralt grumbled something about  _ accidentally  _ knocking Jaskier off the mountain.

Jaskier clearly pretended not to hear him as he dipped his fingers into the oil and brought them to Eskel’s inner thighs. His touch was almost reverent, and it sent shivers through Eskel’s body despite having just come. 

“You’ll have to let me feel these around me before the winter is through,” Jaskier said, stroking Eskel’s inner thigh until it was thoroughly coated in the pleasant smelling oil.

“Is that chamomile?” he asked as Jaskier let his fingers wander higher until he gently massaged the skin behind his testicles. It was hard to concentrate with the gentle pressure creating a pleasant warmth in his belly.

“Mm. I find it is good for relieving sore muscles. Isn’t that right Geralt?”

Geralt grunted behind him, and he eased Eskel’s thighs closed around before wrapping his arm around Eskel’s belly.

Jaskier placed the jar aside and settled himself in front of Eskel, throwing a leg over Eskel’s hip. He smiled up at Eskel before tipping his head back and kissing him sweetly. 

Geralt was the first to press his cock between Eskel’s closed thighs. He placed a kiss to the nape of Eskel’s neck as he sank in all the way. 

Jaskier followed his lead, guiding his own cock between Eskel’s legs from the front. 

Eskel sighed as they developed a rhythm together, cradling him between them as they took pleasure from his body. They kissed him constantly, and they trailed their hands over his sweaty skin. Their own sounds of pleasure mixed with his, and he was surprised to find how much this turned him on. Each slide of their cocks between his legs left sparks brewing in his gut as his cock began to fill again.

Jaskier reached between their sweat-slick bodies and wrapped his palm around Eskel as they all continued to move against each other, seeking completion. 

It was dizzying, and Eskel held them to him as best he could as he rode the pleasure they were bringing him. There was no emptiness here. The bed was full, his body was claimed, and his heart was bursting. 

Eskel pulled himself together as he held Jaskier to him and kissed him deeply. Jaskier shook in his arms, and Eskel felt the wetness between his thighs increase as Jaskier’s touch fumbled on his cock. Behind him he felt Geralt tense as he found his own completion. 

As he shook, Geralt reached around Eskel and wrapped his fingers around Jaskier’s, stroking Eskel closer to the edge. It didn’t take long before Eskel joined them, coming against Jaskier’s body. 

Eskel sagged between them as he came back down, and he happily joined the lazy kisses that Jaskier and Geralt seemed happy to share. The first crackled in the hearth, keeping them warm even as the sweat cooled on their skin. Jaskier’s cheeks had a beautiful flush as he pulled back just enough to smile at Eskel before leaning over him to kiss Geralt as well.

Geralt cradled Eskel to him still, his soft cock still tucked between Eskel’s legs. He was quiet as he stroked Eskel’s soft belly with gentle fingers, but Eskel could tell he was content. They’d laid like this countless times before.

Jaskier wasn’t still like Geralt. He wiggled and touched every available bit of skin. He murmured endearments about Eskel’s firm chest and soft belly. He ran his fingers through Eskel’s chest hair and down over his stomach and thighs like he couldn’t get enough of him. He muttered little poems about firelight and sated lovers. Eventually, he stilled with his head resting on Eskel’s bicep, gentle snores taking the place of mumbled sonnets. 

Eskel’s eyes were heavy, and they couldn’t focus. His body was a hum of contentment, and his mind was quiet. He felt like the keep itself must feel, covered in a blanket of fresh snow, gleaming and new despite crumbling beneath. He found himself looking forward to the dawn, looking forward to besting Geralt in the practice ring, looking forward to hearing Jaskier’s tales of Geralt’s foibles on the Path, looking forward to being in the only place he could call home. 

He yearned for another night like this, but unlike before he yearned with hope in his heart and the knowledge that he had more than he realized.


End file.
